


Not Mine (But I'll Tolerate You Anyway)

by Pearl09



Series: Reversed Omens [5]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack, Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Fluff, For most of the fic, M/M, Mutual Pining, Role Reversal, and the angels are hoarding it, each couple shares one brain cell, if not all of the fic, reversed meets original, reversed omens, two aziraphale's, two crowley's
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 18:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20605712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearl09/pseuds/Pearl09
Summary: A few months after Armageddon, Crowley wakes up in a world that is almost - but not entirely - the one he usually inhabits. It takes meeting Azirafell for him to notice. In Crowley's world, Anthony is having a similar experience. Now, the almost strangers have to work together to get back to their own world. But what switched them in the first place?





	Not Mine (But I'll Tolerate You Anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> Me: Okay, I'll write this after my current angst wip is finished! It'll be angst and pining.  
Me, later: Wow, this dialogue I just came up with is pure crack
> 
> Anyway, this was planned to be angst but it did not go that way at all. Based on Speremint's [ reversed omens](https://speremint.tumblr.com/post/186574829700/finally-finally-done-making-these-refs-my) au, but I'm hopping on the bandwagon of them meeting Aziraphale and Crowley! I took a little tiny liberty with the au, but it's almost entirely the same thing between both worlds. Thanks for reading!

Crowley wakes with a start, sprawled across his recent couch edition instead of his bed. He rubs his forehead, trying to remember falling asleep in the first place. He must have been so tired the night before that he just collapsed on the couch since he’s even still wearing his sunglasses. 

He forgets about that quickly, trying to remember the crazy dream he had had instead. Flashes of it come back to him as he gets ready for the day – meaning as he styles his hair to be the perfect just sort of messy he wants. What he can remember seems ridiculous. Flashes of pink that he himself was wearing. Flashes of navy and green that Aziraphale had. He even vaguely remembers giving the plants a stern look, but not even yelling at them. What a wuss. Aziraphale might get a kick out of it, though, if he can remember any more details. Since they averted Armageddon and tricked Heaven and Hell into leaving them alone, they’ve been spending more time together. Just for friendly purposes, of course. No other reason. 

The first thing that clues him into thinking something’s happened is the Bentley. He steps outside to a normal London day and saunters over to his usual parking spot, only to stop short at the sight of the white Bentley there instead. He lifts his sunglasses to make sure he is seeing things properly, squinting against the bright light it’s reflecting. Everything seems to be the same – he runs a hand along the outside as he circles it, and nothing feels strange. The door opens for him, and he slides right in. When you’ve been driving the same car around for almost a century, it remembers your shape, so he fits perfectly into the pre-determined grooves. His trained eye can spot similar, but not as formed, grooves in the passenger's seat, just the way his angel sits.

The car roars to life under his hands, and, turning the radio on, even still plays Queen. He chalks it up to some prank; probably something Hell did to annoy him. Well, he’d see what Aziraphale thinks before he goes searching for the demon responsible.

His usual route to the bookshop goes as usual – zooming between cars going too slow. Who even drives the speed limit anymore anyway? He can’t help but laugh at a new store he’s somehow missed before as he stops suddenly because of an old lady in the street – a plant nursery called Eden. He’d have to stop in there sometime and see if it lives up to the name – it looks closed right now though.

Something wasn’t right about the bookshop. This was perhaps the most obvious clue, but Crowley still didn’t get it. He could sense something was off, but if he had paid attention to the sign instead of just walking right in, he would have seen that it said _pawn_shop instead of book. 

“Dear, is that you?” he hears Aziraphale’s voice call out, but it sounds - rougher, somehow. He’s too focused on the fact that he is definitely not surrounded by books to answer, though. There are a few books, yes, but they are scattered among other objects, like paintings and furniture and – is that a sword?

Aziraphale comes out of the backroom and stops short at the sight of Crowley, and _oh yes something is definitely wrong._ “What the fuck are you wearing?”

Crowley sputters. “Excuse me? What am _I _wearing? You look like a – like a pokemon villain!”

He frowns and tilts his head, but it’s not right– “Really, Anthony. For Satan’s sake.”

“Anthony?” Crowley does a double-take. “_Satan??_” He covers his face with his hand. “I must still be dreaming; that’s it. Got an – overactive imagination.” He looks back up. “Look, Aziraphale–”

“It’s Azirafell,” he corrects, crossing his arms.

Crowley lifts his sunglasses and squints. “Do you have two pupils in each eye?”

“I always have. There’s nothing new about that.” He squints then too, realizing something. “How long have you had slitted snake eyes?”

They stand in silence, staring at each other as the cogs in their brains take an agonizingly slow time to realize what’s going on. They click at the same time, both exclaiming, “What the Heaven is going on?!”  
~~~  
Anthony was having a similar morning to Crowley, in a slightly different universe. Except, he figured it out sooner.

The black Bentley was similarly brushed to the side, but instead of going straight to what he believed was the pawnshop, he headed for his shop instead. His shop, that isn’t there. His shop, that is currently, ‘Fuzzy Animal Kingdom.’ A pet shop.

He leans against the car and stares up at the sign, blinking as he processes this. A strange dream, where he was wearing black, and Azirafell was wearing _cream_ and _tartan_, of all things. The black Bentley. His shop, seemingly changed overnight.

Climbing back into the car, he carefully makes his way over to where the pawnshop should be. If he’s thinking right, he may find a helpful and familiar face…

It’s a bookshop now. ‘A. Z. Fell.’ Looks like in whatever universe this is, Azirafell still has zero creativity. The bell above the door jingles as it pushes open for him, revealing a forest of books scattered around the place.

“Hello, dear!” He hears Azirafell call, but more cheerful. “I’ll be with you in a moment, just finishing an order for that book I told you about yesterday.”

Anthony gently runs his fingers along a few of the closest books, trying to discern if they know anything of what has happened. It’s all rather strange, and it delays having to meet this new Azirafell for a while, at least.

“To be honest, my dear, I wasn’t quite expecting you so–” he cuts off as he rounds the corner, and Anthony looks up to meet his eyes through his yellow and pink sunglasses. “Early.”

They examine each other for a few seconds, taking in the sight of their companion wearing something other than dark and gloomy. 

“You’re not Crowley,” Aziraphale finally says. “Close, but… something’s different.”

He shakes his head. “Anthony J. Crowley. Usually go by Anthony.” He extends his hand in greeting. “And you’re not Azirafell. Too cheerful, for a start.”

“Aziraphale,” he introduces, taking the offered hand and shaking it. “This is – unusual.”

“Rather.” He looks Aziraphale up and down again. “I take it here, you’re an angel?”

“Principality,” he confirms. Then he grimaces and corrects, “Well, ex-principality, I suppose. Don’t think Heaven really likes me anymore.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Let me guess; you helped stop Armageddon?” He nods at Aziraphale’s shocked face. “I know the whole deal. Seems we come from similar universes. Similar, but not quite the same, since you’re not – Fallen.”

“And neither are you,” Aziraphale says with a smile. “Can I interest you in some tea? I do think we need to sit down and talk.” He gestures for Anthony to follow him to the back, so he does, being careful not to knock any books over.  
~~~  
“So – you Fell? And I didn’t?”

Crowley nods, swirling the bottle of whiskey around in his hand as he sprawls on the chair. “And it seems like we both averted Armageddon.”

Azirafell focuses on the tin of biscuits he is balancing on his lap. “Wait, an Archangel – an Archangel Fell?”

“Bloody He– do you just know everything about my past??”

“Oh. Oh no.” He tsks. “You’ve been hiding it. Just like my Anthony. It’s going to bite you in the ass, let me tell you. He didn’t get the chance to tell me; I found out.”

“Well, it’s not like that matters anymore, cause I Fell,” he hisses. He then rubs his forehead. He’s not used to having to think. Usually, Aziraphale does that for him. “So, if I’m here, then your Raphael is probably with my Aziraphale.”

“Anthony,” he corrects. “He hasn’t gone by Raphael in millennia.”

“Just let me process this, please!” He takes another drink. “How did you Fall?”

“Same as you, I guess. Too many questions.”

Crowley nods. “But I bet you were still loyal to Hell, like Aziraphale was. Wait, Aziraphale was loyal to Heaven, not Hell. Damnit, this is too confusing.”

“You’re telling me. You’re really a snake? Like, Eve actually let a snake tempt her to eat the apple?”

“Yessss, I am! We’ve been through thissss!”

Aziraphale smirks. “A bird is much more reasonable. Why would you listen to a talking snake?”

“Why would you talk to any talking animal! Honestly, if Eve was any smarter, she wouldn’t have listened to either of us.”

He tilts his head, humming in agreement.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I’m the voice of reason here. We should stop fighting and actually figure this out. I don’t know about you, but I think I’d much rather get back to my angel, thank you very much.”

“I agree. Anthony is much more bearable to deal with than you are.”

“Fine.” He looks around the room. “Do you have any sense of organization in here? If you’re like Aziraphale, you might have a book that can help us out.”  
~~~  
“I do have to say; you seem a lot nicer than Azirafell.”

“Oh! Well, I suppose Falling would change one’s personality. More tea?”

Anthony accepts, letting Aziraphale refill his cup. A book lays open on the table between them – the pair is already a step ahead of their demonic selves.

“Do you mind if I take my jacket off? It’s a little hot in here.”

“Oh, of course not! The coat rack is over there if you prefer, but I know Crowley likes to just throw his around anywhere.”

Anthony stands and walks over to the rack, slipping his pink jacket off. “I don’t mind, usually, but Azirafell is very picky when it comes to his jackets, so I usually hang it to appease him.”

Aziraphale flushes slightly, pulling at the sleeves of his jacket self-consciously. “Well, yes. I rather agree. But getting Crowley to do anything… It doesn’t really work out.”

“I’m sure it does, more than you know,” he mutters. As he walks back over, he unbuttons his sleeves and rolls them up before resuming his lounging on the chair. As he takes a drink of his tea, he notices Aziraphale is transfixed on his golden snake tattoos. 

Setting the tea down, he says, “Ah. Crowley lost his angel marks when he Fell, did he?”

Aziraphale startles and looks away, flushing further. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

“No, no, it’s fine. A lot of those in Hell lose their angelic markings, so I see how you’d be drawn to them. Besides, it’s not every day that you meet an old Archangel, huh?” he jokes. When Aziraphale doesn’t laugh with him, he looks over to see a confused expression on his face.

“Aziraphale!” a new voice rings out through the shop, and if he didn’t know any better, Anthony would have said it was Hastur.

“Excuse me,” Aziraphale says, hurrying out of the backroom to see who is here. Anthony is quick to follow, but keeps himself hidden.

“Hastur? Why are you here?”

Huh. So it is Hastur. He supposes not much changes between the two universes, then.

“Heaven and Hell got together for their best plan yet! We’ve separated you and your demon. He was sent to a different universe. Now, without him, you’ll be easier to defeat.”

While Aziraphale isn’t Anthony’s, he can only imagine if that was his demon out there instead. He’d hate for his counterpart to come back and find himself alone. “He isn’t alone.”

Both Hastur and Aziraphale look at him in shock as he rounds the bookshelves, a stern glare on his face. 

“Crowley? But – how?”

“The name’s Anthony,” he corrects. “But I suggest you leave before you find out my _other_ name.”

Hastur regards him for a second before standing straight and sneering, “You don’t frighten me.”

Anthony smirks. “You’re going to regret saying that.” He pushes his hands out in front of him, stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles, and his snakes spring into action as Aziraphale and Hastur watch in shock and horror. His caduceus forms in his hand, and he points it at Hastur. An ethereal glow starts to surround him, and Hastur starts to shrink under the light, adverting his gaze. “I, Archangel Raphael, command you, demon, to go back from whence you came, and to never return to the bookshop!”

Hastur nods hastily and disappears with a pop, leaving behind a faint burning smell. With the threat cleared, Anthony returns to his usual form, the glow fading and his snakes winding back up his arms. He rolls his shoulders as they settle, relaxing his six bristling wings hidden away, wanting to burst forth into the mortal plane.

He turns to look at Aziraphale with a smile. “That was probably a little overkill, but, it got the job done.” His smile turns to a look of concern when Aziraphale is frozen in a mixture of shock and horror. “Aziraphale, are you okay?”

“You – _You’re a bloody archangel?_”  
~~~  
Crowley and Azirafell had a similar experience, with the Archangel Sandalphon, who tried to come after Azirafell. Being as there were no dramatic revelations about anyone’s past, they moved on quickly, and are looking over the book Crowley had mentioned earlier.

“You know, usually, anytime before today, I’d say this idea of alternate universes sounds insane. But, being that you are nothing like Anthony, I can’t deny it now.”

“Right. Anyway, after that altercation, I’d say both of our Heaven’s and Hell’s tried to get rid of me and Anthony at the same time so that they could get to you and Aziraphale, but they swapped us instead of getting rid of us. If I want to go back to Aziraphale, and if you want Anthony back, we need to somehow… make our worlds combine, I guess? Or a portal, just – some way we can get between the two worlds.”

Azirafell studies Crowley, making him squirm slightly in his seat. “You’re in love with him,” he decides, taking a biscuit from the tin. 

Sputtering, Crowley manages a “What?”

“You’re in love with him. I can tell. I might not be able to sense love, but I can see it. You look exactly the same as Anthony whenever he’s tending to the plants over at his shop.”

“I am a demon! I – I’m not capable of love!” His flustered appearance and reddened cheeks say otherwise. 

“Deny it all you want, but you’re not fooling anyone. Besides, we’re not really demons anymore. We can be capable of whatever we want.”

Crowley grumbles, shrinking in on himself to try and hide his embarrassment. “So what if I am? Something you’re gonna do about it?”

Azirafell sighs. “I’m in the same boat, I’m afraid. So I’m not going to do anything.”

“You mean – you love Anthony?”

He nods. “Don’t think he loves me back, though. I’d hate to ruin our friendship by saying anything.”

“How – how long?”

Humming in thought, he says, “That depends. I think I had fallen in love with him a long time back, but had been suppressing my feelings. That is, until World War II. The idiot tried to fool some Nazis, and I had to go running in to save him.” He shakes his head fondly. “Once the building blew up and I gave him his things back, he didn’t hesitate to heal my feet after their blistering. Him, an Archangel, spending the time to heal a demon. That was definitely the turning point for me.”

“For me – for me it was Eden,” he nods. “I slithered right over to him and started a conversation. He didn’t try to get rid of me and even attempted to answer my questions. Then the bastard had to go and give his flaming sword away to protect Adam and Eve, and I was done for. The icing on the cake was when he extended his wing over me to protect me from the rain.”

It grows quiet before Azirafell starts chuckling. “We’re both idiots, aren’t we.”

“Says the one in the bathrobe.”

“It’s a trenchcoat!” he defends.

“Whatever,” Crowley waves off. “This is your world. What do you suppose we do to try and send me back?”

“Well, I suppose we could pay a visit to Anathema. She might be able to help.”

“Oh, right, book girl. You have her here too?”

Aziraphale purses his lips and gives him a look before nodding.

“... Is she the Antichrist here?”

“‘Is she the Antichrist’ for Satan’s sake, no! A young boy named Adam was. I don’t know how Armageddon affected him in your universe, but here, he’s completely given up his powers. Quite a normal human boy.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, ours didn’t. Found that out a few months after, but it’s not like there’s anything we can do about it. I suspect, if the other two are moving at the same speed we are, that’s where Aziraphale is headed.”

“Well, we might not have any being occult or ethereal or anything in between to help, but Anathema is a witch, so she might know something. And her and Anthony have been getting along quite well since Armageddon, mostly over their plants and herb knowledge, so I’m sure she’ll be willing to help.”

“Well, hop in the car then, I guess. I’ll drive. Tadfield, is it?”

Azirafell nods and cleans up the food quickly, making sure everything is pristine, and then follows Crowley out to the waiting Bentley, where Queen accompanies them on their ride to Tadfield.  
~~~  
My apologies for the outburst back there, d – er, Anthony. It was just rather shocking.”

Anthony drums his fingers idly on the steering wheel as he weaves through traffic. “I get it. Didn’t know the other me never told you. Probably should have, though. I never told Azirafell, he found out at Armageddon.

“Well, that makes me feel better.” He relaxes, but only slightly, as they are still zooming around London. “I see that staying an angel did nothing to change your mind on speeding.”

“Oh, you and Azirafell are wusses. What’s the point of owning a car if you stay slow?”

To get you safely from point A to point B at a quicker speed! Driving 90 in Central London, that’s not safely!”

He rolls his eyes as he turns around a corner. “The antichrist is still in Tadfield, then?”

“Yes! Oh, Adam is just the sweetest child.”

“He’s the antichrist.”

Aziraphale looks offended. “That doesn’t mean he’s inherently evil! He’s about as evil as a normal person. He stopped Armageddon without us helping, even!”

“Don’t get your feathers in a twist. I’m just stating facts. Azirafell calls him the little devil, even now.”

The look on his face softens as he studies Anthony. “You love him.”

Anthony swerves suddenly, almost crashing into another car. Once he’s returned the car to a safe path of travel, he says, “What?”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t. I’m an angel, same as you; I can feel the little wave of love that echoes off of you every time you mention him. I thought it was just because you’re friends, like the kind I feel off of Crowley when he’s talking to me, but I can see it in your face now, too. You look like Crowley when he’s looking up at the stars. He’s so fond of those old things.”

There’s a beat of silence. “That’s because we made them.” He glances over to see Aziraphale’s small frown before sighing. “Alright, yes. I do. But I doubt he loves me back. I kept that secret from him for all those years; why would he?”

Aziraphale nods. “I know how you feel. Crowley – well, let’s say I’m afraid I’ve disappointed him so much over the years, I’m afraid to say anything more and ruin our friendship that I only just repatched.”

“But you love him?”

He pauses, considering, before nodding briefly. He knows Anthony is watching him out of the corner of his eye. They spend the rest of the ride in silence, only relieved when Anthony turns the radio on and Queen starts playing. 

Anthony pulls off of the road to park in front of Adam’s house, where the young boy in question is already running out to greet them. 

“Uncle Aziraphale!” he calls out, running over and hugging him. 

“Adam!” he returns the hug. “I’m so glad to see you. We need your help.”

The car door on the other side shuts, and Adam lets go and turns to him, saying, “Uncle Crowley!” He stops short when he sees Anthony.

Anthony shakes his head. “I’m not Crowley.”

Adam nods. “I think I know why you need my help. Come on in; my parents are out.”

Aziraphale and Anthony make eye contact before moving to follow him into the house.  
~~~  
“So you have no idea how you got here?”

“I already told you, book girl. No. I had a weird dream about this place, and then I woke up here.”

“And I told you, my name’s Anathema.”

Crowley waves it off. “Yeah yeah, whatever. I’d just like to get home.”

“Well, you’ll have to wait until I at least finish writing this bit of proof down for my multiverse theory.”

“Apparently I’m an angel over there,” Azirafell interrupts, a smirk on his face as Anathema continues to write furiously in her notebook. 

“Don’t you want your Anthony back? You keep feeding her this, and we’ll never figure anything out.”

“Of course I want Anthony back. But it’s just as fun seeing you get annoyed as it is him.”

Crowley huffs.

“Oh, stop being so dramatic. Anathema, do you have any ideas for us?”

Anathema speaks as she continues to write. “If my multiverse theory is correct, then your other halves are probably doing the same thing, or at least something close. My magic doesn’t do anything for interdimensional gateways, but if someone in the other universe can…” she trails off and looks up at Crowley.

He nods. “Probably.”

She resumes writing. “Then we would need to meet them in the same place. I think only you two would know where that is.” She dots her last period, crosses her last ‘t,’ and then looks up at the pair expectantly. 

They stare back in silence for a few seconds as they think before simultaneously saying, “St. James.”  
~~~  
After a stressful drive back to London with no less than twelve conversations along the lines of, “Anthony, you are driving too fast, there’s a kid in the back for goodness sake!”, they finally parked just outside of St. James Park. As soon as they walked in, the people casually enjoying their days all suddenly started to pack up and leave in a mass exodus. Anthony gave Adam a curious look, earning a shrug in response.

Aziraphale left the two to walk around the park, making sure that everyone is gone before they tear a hole in the two worlds, but when you leave a curious, extroverted kid with a new person, it tends to lead to questions.

“So you’re an angel?”

“Yes.”

“Like a good angel, or a bad one?”

“I’m not with Heaven anymore, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“What kind of angel are you?”

“Archangel.”

“So you’re friends with Gabriel?”

“Brothers. Not friends.”

“What about Sandalphon?”

“You’re testing me,” Anthony finally retaliates, crossing his arms. “Why?”

Adam shrugs. “Uncle Crowley always answers my questions. I think it’s because he Fell for his questions. So I was trying to see how you compare to him.”

“How do I stack up?”

He smiles. “You’re pretty cool. Even if you do wear a lot of pink.”

Anthony smiles back. “Well, there’s nothing wrong with a little accessorizing, and it's terribly boring to be tied to one color.”

At this point, Aziraphale is making his way back over, hands clasped behind his back. They turn their attention on him as he says, “The park is clear. It seems you got all of them, Adam. Whenever you’re ready.”

Adam nods, turning his attention away to focus on a point in the distance. To anyone watching, it just looks like a normal kid has zoned out, but Aziraphale and Anthony can feel his powers humming through the air. He’s taking the park, outlining its borders, and creating a new one, a kind of purgatory between the two worlds. If everything works right, then everyone who was in the park in both worlds should show up.

“Crowley!” an excited Aziraphale yells, running over to the black-clad figure and capturing him in a hug.

“Ngk. Hey, angel.”

Anathema and Adam gravitate to each other as the two outsiders finding a familiar face.

Anthony and Azirafell don’t run and embrace, but they still gravitate towards each other, their attention focused on their alternate selves. “Do I really look like _that_?” they both say simultaneously. 

Aziraphale pulls away from Crowley but keeps a hold of his wrists. “Dear, When were you going to tell me you used to be an Archangel?!”

Crowley groans. “That idiot in pink told you, didn’t he?”

“Accidentally,” Anthony calls. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Uh-huh.”

Aziraphale scoffs. “Come on, dear, don’t be rude! He is literally you. You’d know if he was lying.”

“Oh, will you two stop bickering and just kiss already?” Azirafell interrupts. At their shocked expressions, he says, “You really aren’t fooling anyone here. Except for yourselves, apparently.”

“What do you mean?” Aziraphale says, suddenly pulling away from Crowley as if he was burned. “Crowley wouldn’t–”

“Oh, Crowley would,” Azirafell winks. “We had a long conversation about that, didn’t we?”

Crowley points a threatening finger at him, saying, “Look, demon, just because we talked doesn’t mean –” He doesn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence as Aziraphale suddenly grabs his lapels and pulls him in for a shock-inducing kiss. It’s soft and gentle and only lasts for a few seconds before Aziraphale remembers that there people present and watching, and one of them is a child.

“Oh my, I’m quite sorry about that, dear.”

“Don’t be,” Crowley says once he can form words, dazed. There’s silence in the park for a few seconds as the two gaze at each other adoringly, with Azirafell and Anthony watching, almost jealous.

The silence is broken by Adam rolling his eyes and saying, “Okay, now it’s time for you two to kiss.”

“_Us_?” Anthony asks. “Why would we kiss? It’s not like one of us has secretly been in love with the other for 6000 years.”

Azirafell looks affronted. “Anthony!”

“Hmm?” he says, turning to look. He is jerked suddenly towards him, because similarly to Aziraphale and Crowley, Azirafell also grabbed his lapels as he pulls him into a kiss. It’s harsher than the other kiss because a demon initiated it, but it still holds the same compassion of the other one, and it still renders Anthony completely useless after he pulls away.

“I’m happy for you all,” Anathema says, breaking the silence, “But if we could maybe get a move on? Not that I didn’t enjoy finally seeing you two get together, Anthony and Azirafell, but it was a little awkward.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale answers, smiling. “So sorry about that. Adam?”

Before Adam can do anything, however, there’s a sudden ear-splitting roll of thunder, and two flashes of lightning flash out of the sky and to the ground, leaving two eerily similar Gabriel’s in their wake. Then, the Earth below them starts to split, and two Beezlebub’s rise up from the depths of Hell.

Anthony and Crowley step in front of Azirafell and Aziraphale, holding an arm out protectively, but the two roll their eyes at their companions and step to the side so that they can see what’s going on.

“We certainly are glad you took the time to sort that out, too,” one of the Gabriels says with a smile.

“Yez. It gave uz enough time to zort out a plan.”

The second Gabriel takes over. “Who knew that we would both try to separate you in the same way, at the same time, and that it would backfire like that?”

The other Beezlebub finishes, “But, four brainz at once made thinking of a new way to get rid of you eazy.”

“You can try to fight us,” Anthony says, stepping forward, “But you don’t stand a chance.” He looks over and gestures to Crowley. “Not against an Archangel and an ex Archangel.”

Aziraphale steps forward. “And a Principality and an ex Principality.”

Anathema, brandishing a breadknife, says, “And a witch.”

And finally, Adam steps forward. “And an antichrist.” The fabric of reality crackles around him, showing off that he’s more dangerous than he seems. 

A wave of uncertainty passes over the faces of the four, but the final nail in the coffin hasn’t been hit yet. 

Anthony sheds his jacket so that he can form his staff, letting his six wings unfurl into this reality and thrusting the bottom of the staff into the ground as he holds it in front of him, glowing threateningly. Crowley follows suit, his single pair of black wings finding this reality as a tire iron appears in his hand. Aziraphale and Azirafell bring their wings out too, a flaming sword appearing in their hands. 

It’s dead silent as the park collectively holds its breath amidst the standstill. Neither side moves as they wait for the other to do something.

Finally, after a few painful minutes, one of the Gabriels turns to the others, and the four of them start to whisper among themselves.

“You’ve won,” a Beezlebub finally says, spreading their arms out in surrender. “We’ll leave you alone from now on.”

“All of you?” Anthony asks, his wings stretching further to look intimidating.

“If you stay away from us, we’ll leave you alone,” a Gabriel says, looking intimidated. “That’s a promise.”

“And you’ll leave Earth alone? You won’t try to start another Armageddon?” Adam asks, glaring dangerously.

“We won’t.” With that, the four of them pop out of existence, and the glow slowly fades away as Anthony’s snakes wind their way back up his arms.

Once everyone’s wings have disappeared once again, Aziraphale says, “Well, at least we won’t be seeing them again.”

Azirafell chuckles. “You’re telling me.”

“I guess this is goodbye then,” Anthony says with a nod. “I need to make sure my plants didn’t slack off without me there. They’ll be disappointing themselves if they did.”

“Maybe we can get together again and chat,” Crowley offers. “I’d like to hear about your gardening techniques.”

“Oh, garden!” Aziraphale exclaims suddenly. “Crowley dearest, how would you feel about moving in together? We could get a nice cottage to hold my books, with a large backyard for your plants!”

Crowley stares at him, not blinking. “I thought _I_ was the one that went to fast for you.”

“Oh, well–”

“That’s not a no, angel. Don’t take that the wrong way. I –” he shakes his head. “Sure.”

“The South Downs might be a good idea,” Azirafell suggests. “What do you think, Anthony? For us?”

“I, uh – what?”

“Why do I even like you?”

“Oh shut up, fiend.”

“Here,” Adam says, handing Anthony a phone he materialized. “It has mine and Crowley’s numbers programmed into it already if you ever want to talk. Or even visit. I’d love to meet the others in your world.”

The adults all share a brief mental image of eight members of the Them running around and wreaking havoc, instead of the usual four, and they all decide without conferring that they’d rather not deal with that. 

“We’ll see what we can do,” Anthony says anyway. “It was nice meeting you all, but I think Azirafell and I have some catching up to do. After we take you home first, Anathema.”

Crowley nods. “Yeah, nothing like being stuck in a different world for not even a whole day to bring a couple together.”

“Two, actually,” Anathema says. “I have more information for my multiverse theory than I’d ever need. Now I just have to convince people it’s real. Adam, will you do the honors?”

Adam nods, and in a few seconds, Anathema, Anthony, and Azirafell disappear, and the sound of traffic starts to filter through the park once more. Some passerby start to come into the park as well, not even noticing that a few seconds ago, it didn’t really exist. 

Aziraphale and Crowley stand arm in arm, smiling at each other, before Crowley finally breaks off to ruffle Adam’s hair. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you home.”

“You must have had a crazy time in the other world!” Adam says, eyes bright. “Will you tell me what happened?”

The three walk out of the park together, hand in hand, as Crowley starts his story. “The white Bentley was the first hint that something was off. And the plant nursery. Anthony named it Eden, can you even believe that?”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I'm over [here](https://pearlll09.tumblr.com) on tumblr.


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